


Sleeping During a Revolution

by Cocohorse



Series: Heavenscoin One-Shots [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Heavenscoin, Jokes, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 07:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5281832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cocohorse/pseuds/Cocohorse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I was suggesting that maybe you’d want to, I don't know, get some actual rest. Spend the night. Together, you know.”</p><p>Coin has been getting less sleep than usual, and Plutarch wants to fix that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleeping During a Revolution

**Author's Note:**

> sorry i'm trash and heavenscoin is trash and this fic is trash but anyway... here's a quick n embarrassing one-shot of heavenscoin (bc ain't nobody got time for a multi-chapter slow-burn for this hell ship.... but if u do pls write one for me) so enjoy the cliche-ness and ooc-ness :')))

"You need to get some rest," noted Plutarch, his voice low and quiet. He spoke and looked with concern at Coin, who sat beside him.

Coin’s head turned at his words, and her eyes sharply narrowed back at him in irritation. It looked as if she was ready to spit back a lengthy rebuttal at the man, but she held her tongue and didn’t utter a word until Beetee and Katniss had both left. A long, unsteady pause hovered between the two as they wordlessly waited. Plutarch just stared at her, his eyebrows raised.

The room finally empty, Plutarch jumped back to his point and continued relentlessly. “You’re President,” he argued. “You can take a break once in awhile, you know.”

“I can't. I'm _President_ ,” spat Coin, tightening up. “I cannot even begin to believe you’d suggest such things right now. We’ve got a revolution going on. Not just outside, like you might want to believe, but here - inside - right now. It doesn't stop and start for us, and if I have to sacrifice my sleep, then so be it. Now excuse me, I must get back to work.” She moved to rise up from her seat, but a hand on her wrist stopped her.

Plutarch took a moment to search her eyes so that his following words, though spoken softly and measuredly, held more strength. “District 13 can wait. You've been working all day,” he said. “For the past however-many weeks you've been barely sleeping. You’re pale and weak. It's not _good_ for you.” He gave her wrist an earnest squeeze. “Don't make me worried for you, Alma. You’ll just make us both unhealthy.”

Coin slowly lowered back down, seating closer to Plutarch now. But even under his familiar touch, her body was tense. “Then quit worrying,” she told him, speaking sharp and clipped. “I don't need anyone to worry over me like I'm some child. Especially from my second-in-command, of all people. Show some respect. And stop calling me by my first name; it's not proper, _Mr. Heavensbee_.” She shot him a defiant glare and pulled her wrist away.

A grin broke out on Plutarch’s face. He leaned back and mused carefully, crossing his arms and studying her face in amusement. “Well, it's not like you follow your own rules anyway. Maybe in public, sure. But I can remember a few times you called me by my first name in private.”

Judging by the sudden flustered expression on her face, the ex-gamemaker was probably going to get strangled. “I’ll kill you if you don’t shut up,” she threatened through a clenched jaw.

The bastard chuckled. “With all due respect, Madame President, you'll be too tired to,” he pointed out, and he slid over to her until their sides pressed closely together.

The President groaned exasperatedly under her breath, earning a nudge and a barking laugh from Plutarch. Like an insistent dog, he would probably follow her even if she tried to shift away, stand up, or leave. If she somehow died right there, he’d probably find a way to come after her to make sure she was getting some extra sleep on top of her eternal sleep. It definitely appeared more and more like she wasn't going to get rid of him easily now. But she didn't want to give in. Not to this ridiculous man with the stupid grin and the crazy ideas.

Her mouth opened to unleash a furious, unbridled attack on him, but he beat her to the punch, blurting, “Come up to my room. Or yours. Whichever you prefer, of course.”

She jerked away from him in surprise. “I'm not interested in your ‘offers’ of pity,” she snapped.

“No, no, I'm not suggesting anything like that,” he reassured swiftly, looking a bit chagrined at the his outburst and her obvious displeasure. He was always up for cracking jokes to Coin’s frustration and flustration, but when she turned it on him, he would simply melt into a tongue-tied puddle. “I was suggesting,” he tried again, “that maybe you’d want to, I don't know, get some _actual_ rest. Spend the night. _Together_ , you know.”

Coin frowned, her doubts lingering. “Really?”

“Well, yeah. It’s up to you, of course,” he said, feigning a nonchalant shrug. But he was genuinely serious, and he wanted her to see that. “I'm being honest here. You know me. I know you.”

“But you don't know me.”

Plutarch paused, taking in her words. “Okay, I don't.” He lowered his hands in acknowledgment. “That's granted. I know you don't know that much about me, either, and it should probably stay that way for the both of us. But that doesn’t change the fact that it bothers me when I see you lose sleep every day. I just want you to be _better_ , okay? I wouldn't suggest something that would make you lose _more_ energy.” He reddened. “Okay, that sounded awful. Well, forget it. We don't have to do have to do anything if you don’t feel like it, really.”

“Can we just stop talking about this?” said Coin, interrupting his rambling.

His eyes blinked and his throat cleared uncertainly. “Right, yes. I'm very sorry for taking up your time.”

Coin let out a sigh as she stood up, and Plutarch didn’t try to stop her. She made to leave, then halted at the door, turning around. “Are you coming?”

Taken by surprise, it took a moment for him to gather his thoughts. He nodded, getting up and following after her into the hallway.

It was not unusual for them to eat and work together in each other’s rooms, so they went down to Plutarch’s room without any disturbance. After they went inside and he locked the door, Coin carefully went and sat on the edge of his bed, looking very out of place. “Now what?” she sighed, glancing up at him as he made his way toward her.

When he sat down next to her, his added weight on the bed made her jump a little. A startled peep escaped from her, making Plutarch burst into a small laugh that shook the bed. Ignoring her stare of dismay, he got up and replied, “We undress.” He began to peel off his uniform.

She followed suit and undressed as he climbed into his bed, leaving a space beside him free for her. Once she was only in her undergarments, she climbed right into the soft, clean bed beside him. There was no use leaving the space open for her because she simply squeezed right up to his chest. Immediately, she liked hearing him breathe and feeling his chest rise and fall. His smell was unbelievably nice, and, god, he was very warm.

Gently, he wrapped his arms safely around her and pulled her up to him, their bare skins pressing closer together. He swallowed, his face burrowing into her soft, sweet-smelling hair, and he couldn't help but feel very happy all of a sudden. His chest light and his head dizzy with thrill, he dropped an affectionate kiss on the top of her head, making her tremble in his arms. He then decided that he liked how their skins brushed together when she trembled, so he peppered more kisses down on her hair, each one more passionate than the last. She closed her eyes and mumbled his name over and over into his chest as he continued to kiss her, letting his mouth fall down upon her head and onto her neck and shoulders.

“You're going to give me an aneurysm,” she stuttered, tilting her head back as he trailed a line of kisses back upward. She stretched and stirred in his arms, flipping over and raising her body so that she could face him. Plutarch had stopped kissing to smile up at her, his mouth parted slightly.

“Asleep yet?” he asked jokingly, stroking one hand up and down her arching back. With the other hand, he tucked the falling hair out of her face and cupped the back of her head. He brought her head down to his and began to kiss her softly on the lips, inviting her closer back to him.

Coin briefly broke away from his mouth with a gasp, meeting his adoring, watchful eyes. In the midst of this all, she had forgotten about the revolution. There was only Plutarch, his kisses, and the bed. “If I am,” she murmured, running a hand through his blond hair, “I suddenly don't want to wake up,” and she kissed him back.

 


End file.
